But something inside me finds a way to think that you’re not wrong
Our makeshift mends are delicate and we know we don’t belong
I’m still here, against my will, should’ve folded so long ago
Deception lies in your lion’s teeth that grab me by the throat

Words fall off my tongue
But my mouth stays closed
And I’ll stitch it shut
So no one knows

Get out
I can still taste your skin
It reeks of all the other lips that kissed it
Hedonist, with your legs open
The better to incite a foreign sin with

Why try
I’m still broken and sick
Pessimism is the only reasonable conviction
When all is said and over with, I’m desperate for this fiction

I’m pathetic
You’re synthetic

My metathetic rhetoric is cynical and lyrical
Cyclical and personal
I’m such a fool for you

Words fall off my tongue
But my mouth stays closed
And I’ll stitch it shut
So no one knows